It's a Great Life: Helpful hints on how to grow orchids

The other day, co-worker and garden editor Fred Whitley remarked that a meeting of the orchid society was planned, and I really should attend.

At least that's what I thought he said. His tongue was so far up his cheek it was hard to understand him.

But, I took his suggestion to heart and decided to share my hints for successful gardening. They can be summed up in three words -- neglect and silk.

Several years ago at work I received a beautiful plant from former Record publisher and his wife, A.H. and B.J. Tebault.

In it was a beautiful orchid and an equally impressive maiden hair fern.

I'm sorry to say that the maiden hair fern has gone to garden heaven, but I must hasten to report it's not my fault.

Keith Fuller, garden guy on Fred's Garden Page, checked out the fern on one of his very, very, very, very rare visits to The Record and pronounced of the fern's demise: "It's the humidity, not stupidity."

I was elated -- so much so, in fact, that the brown maiden air fern remains in the planter.

And it is the dead fern, I believe, which is responsible for the beautiful -- and real, I might add -- orchids which are happily blooming.

OK, the blooming might be credited, too, to the weekly drink of water given them by co-worker Diane. But I can take just a little bit of credit. When Diane is away I have been known to remember to water the plants.

It's been our policy to water on a Wednesday because the garden cop -- aka Fred -- comes to work on a Thursday and gets a real kick, it seems, out of sticking his finger into each and every plant and giving a critique by announcing: "Dry! This one needs water.

"Euuuu! This one has too much water!"

And so it goes.

But, there's more to this saga.

I am also the proud owner of a beautiful orchid plant at home. It's in my husband, You Know Who's domain, right next to the dead evergreens -- boy that's a really bad name for them, isn't it -- EVER GREEN. Anyway, the answer to the healthy plant at home is s-i-l-k, courtesy of my neighbor, Belle.

And it is Belle, too, who has helped my reputation in exterior gardening.

Many years ago friend Dotty gifted us with a Bird of Paradise. You Know Who planted it. When it grew and grew and grew -- because he took care of it -- he divided it into pieces, and thanks to his loving care it has flourished and produced.

But, Belle, the silk flower fairy, has added her touch, as well, and when the Bird of Paradise refused to emit its brightly colored purple and orange blossoms, Belle added her silky touch.

Belle's additions were so impressive that they fooled an expert.

"Do you mind if I cut one of the Bird of Paradise for the flower show?" questioned a friend last April. It is better that I not identify her since she is a longtime garden clubber and flower grower.

"Do I have some?" I answered.

"Yes."

"Well go to it."

So one day, just before the show, she came to the house, scissors in hand, prepared to snip and display.

But, much to our mutual surprise, it was not to be.

The brilliant blooms were of the silky persuasion.

They remain in the front yard as we speak, although they are a tad weather-worn.

So if you read this Belle, be alerted. It's up to you to keep my reputation as an expert gardener in tact.

Who knows, maybe someday there will be a Bird of Paradise workshop Fred will want me to attend -- if he ever gets his tongue out of his cheek so I can understand what he's saying.